by JN Lenz
In all likelihood the time of day that Bruck was reading the article on the front page of Toronto’s best-selling newspaper on the murder of MNM, Clyde would be staring at the same headline in the newspaper at a stand close to school. Having driven back down into the city late Sunday night Clyde would not see the paper until his Monday afternoon classes were all finished for the day and Clyde was heading back to the townhouse.
After the encounter with Bruck only two days earlier on Saturday, Clyde had taken extensive measures to conceal the scratches left by MNM but there was little he could do about the large bandage on the side of his face. He had been applying vitamin E and Aloe Vera liberally to the wounds to prevent them from leaving permanent scares across his face and to hopefully heal quicker. The file would make note that Clyde would continue to think about the conversation he had had with Bruck Myers all of that week after he had returned to Toronto. Was the drunkard cop really onto something or was it just a coincidence and the drunken babble of an alcoholic, Clyde could not be completely sure but he would begin to take extra care in the future
Back in Largo, Bruck Myers began to follow up on the hunch he felt about the newest proprietors of the local Funeral Home, something just wasn’t right about the two of us and he knew Clyde was hiding the truth from him about his face. It would not take long for the constable to discover that the two of us in fact did not arrive in Largo from the east coast but in fact grew up a couple hundred miles away in the town of Parsons. Nor had our parents passed away, Clyde knew Bruck could easily discover the truth to these questions but he lied to him none the less.
The discovery of these simple lies would be enough to convince Bruck that there was more to the two of us than appeared on the surface. Bruck’s continuing investigation led him to discover that Clyde also held an active hunting license and had two riffles registered in his name, one being a small caliber .22 while the other being a larger caliber .306, the same size of caliber that had been used to assassinate Harry Winslow.
I had never owned a fire arm so his search would have come up empty handed when looking for a gun license or ownership in my name. The deeper that Bruck researched into the pair of us, the more convinced he became on our guilt in the recent rash of deaths and services at the Funeral Home. The fact that neither Clyde nor I had any prior convictions would not deter Bruck, even though we had not so much as a speeding violation on our Police file. Still there must have been something just did not sit so well with the perpetually drunk but seasoned cop as he continued his investigation into both of us.
Knowing that he would be unable to present his theory on the murders to the Police chief because of his blemished past history and alcohol abuse, Bruck set out investigating the two of us without the knowledge or assistance of the local Police force. Bruck would need to be cautious in contacting detachments in our home town and down in the city where both Harry Winslow and Ms. Eldridge had been murdered. The last thing he wanted was to have them contacting his superiors in regards to his inquiries.
The requests made to the local detachment in our home town of Parsons produced no new revelations to the inquiring cop. Bruck had requested info on the two of us under the guise that the two of us had volunteered to coach minor sports and he was completing a simple profile to ensure we had no criminal past. The officer in Parsons it would appear offered little more than a brief family history on the two of us most of which centered around Clyde’s dysfunctional parents and their substance abuse issues, hardly a subject Bruck could hold against them or Clyde for that matter.
There had been no incidents involving Clyde or myself that the officer could recall, certainly nothing of a criminal nature and the officer Bruck would speak to knew nothing of me other than knowing my parents owned a small machine shop in town. The cop from Pleasant would report to Bruck that Clyde had a reputation around town as a proficient hunter even as a teenager.
Clyde detailed in the file how Bruck had shown up unexpectedly once again on the following weekend, this time it would be while Clyde worked in the back Funeral Home garage. The inquisitive cop may have had his hunch about Clyde but I will guarantee he had no idea Clyde had murdered three more times since their last meeting one week earlier. The returning of the chain saw he had borrowed would be the excuse Bruck would use as an excuse to drop in so he could further grill Clyde. The conversation started with predictable small town conversation and politeness until Bruck made mention of the disappearing scares on Clyde’s cheek
“I notice the scratches from that dog are starting to go away, whose dog you say that was again”.
“Don’t think I ever did say whose dog; trust me you don’t know him he lives down in the city. My fault really got his shepherd all worked up, I was the one that started to wrestler with the dog not the other way around, just set the chain saw over there in the corner” The mole on the back of Clyde’s neck had given him a quick jab of pain at the sound of Bruck’s voice
“Hunting buddy I guess?”
“No, not a hunting buddy, just a buddy”
“Didn’t you tell me you loved to hunt?”
“Don’t think so”
“I guess it’s not the first scratch you’ve had from an animal with all that hunting you like to do, I’m sure even if one of those wild animals did not get a little piece of you even than some tree limb along the way scratched you plenty. What’s your weapon of choice when you are hunting deer anyway a .306?”
“Can’t say I can remember talking about hunting with you, must be someone else you are thinking of”
“No I’m sure it was you, back in the town of Parsons where you used to live. You would hunt in the forests surrounding the town, wasn’t that what you said.”
“Hunting around Parsons, still can’t remember talking to you about that.”
“But you hunt right?”
“Yaa I’ve hunted before, so what”
“Just making conversation, I hunt too. What caliber you like to use, mine is a 306”
“Oh yaa, not me I use a smaller caliber, a 252. Funny I can’t remember talking to you about hunting, you sure you’re talking to the right guy? Besides don’t have much time for hunting these days and I doubt I will make it out for this year’s deer hunt. Maybe you are mixing me up with a conversation you’ve had with someone else, I’m sure you must talk to most of town in the course of a week”.
“Oh a .252 that’s a little smaller than most guys use to hunt deer around here, I wouldn’t mind taking a look at that thing you got it handy?”
“Well I guess maybe there a shitty shot then, handy you mean like in my back pocket? It’s a fucking riffle why would I have it handy?”
“I just meant around, I always like checking out a different gun”
“No Bruck it’s not handy right now, besides I need to get this car finished so I can get back upstairs and get ready for visiting this evening. You have a good day now; I really need to get back to work if you don’t mind”
“Of course don’t let me hold you up, want to make sure you get that haze of wax from the paint, black only looks good when it’s shining.”
“I guess”
“Boy you’ve had some high fluting funerals round this place lately, must be racking in the bucks on some of those I bet”
“A funeral is a funeral”
“Yaa but money is money right, especially big money. Hell I guess they can all afford it anyway”
“Not sure who they are, like I said I look at every funeral we have here the same, rich or poor it makes no difference to me”
“Then you would be the first man I have met that money does not matter to”
“Money matters to us all, at no point have I said money does not matter to me”
“Then all funerals are not created equally after all”
“Whatever, listen it’s been a blast but I’m done here and I am in need of a shower. You have yourself a good day Bruck”
“Thanks for the chainsaw, maybe we could get out sh
ooting some time?” Without responding Clyde turned and walked to the back of the Funeral Home and entered without turning back or saying another word to Bruck.
Clyde could hear the engine of Bruck’s car start as he opened the back door of the Funeral Home, listening as the crappy little Chevrolet Chevette backed from its spot in front of the garage and drove out of the Funeral Home parking lot. The lack of emotion Clyde displayed in front of Bruck unraveled as he walked through the hall to the front lobby of the Funeral Home, grabbing the first flower arrangement he encountered Clyde threw the container across the Hall rupturing into a hundred petals and pieces across the ceramic tile floor. The mess of water, glass and flowers would be cleaned up long before either Fred or I returned, neither of us knew a thing about Clyde’s encounter with Bruck or the smashed arrangement in the main hall, I was a little surprised to read that Clyde had included his outbreak in his files, he was not prone to uncontrolled outbursts.
The following entry in the file marked number eight came three days later when Clyde had returned back down to school in Toronto. After being out for a later evening bike ride Clyde was returning to the townhouse when he noticed an identical Chevrolet Chevette to the one that officer Bruck Myers drove.
The car was parked down the road from the front of his town house, although the skies had just turned dark Clyde was certain he could see the outline of someone sitting in the driver’s seat of the Chevette. Clyde kept his bicycle inside the townhouse and would usually take it out the back patio door and out thru the back yard when he went out for a ride. The trails had remained muddy from the previous day’s rain so he had intended on leaving the bike in the garage on his return to the town house. This was the only reason he was returning on the street that ran in front of the townhouse that was until he spotted Bruck’s car.
Veering down the closest sidewalk that ran between the blocks of townhouses, Clyde would park the bike and walk back to the edge of a row of buildings to observe the Chevette. Sure enough through the light from the street lamps Clyde could make out the back of a male with a short haircut similar to the brush cut Bruck Myers sported as he sat in the driver’s seat. Clyde chose not to take a closer look to ensure he would not be seen by who he suspected to be Bruck, but he would stay there hidden by the building to observe the parked car for several more minutes.
The car’s driver remained seated behind the wheel not leaving the vehicle for the nearly twenty minutes Clyde would observe him. Wanting to verify that it was indeed the prying drunkard cop from largo Clyde returned to his bike and rode back to the townhouse using the back of the home’s patio doors to enter the home undetected.
Grabbing the keys for the old Ford pickup truck Clyde walked out of the front of the townhouse jumped into the truck and drove down the road quickly, directly towards the still parked Chevette. Although the sun was already long gone, Clyde had placed a pair of dark sunglasses and a ball cap on his head so he could observe who was sitting behind the wheel of the car when he drove past. As he passed the parked Chevette on the side of the street, Clyde kept his head pointed directly down the road as his eyes peered sideways through the windshield towards the Chevette as he drove past.
The driver had now buried his head behind a newspaper held half against the side driver’s window and steering wheel. The light being cast down by the overhead street lamp would show the shaved head of a hiding Bruck Myers, or someone with an identical brush cut. The confirmation this was Bruck came within seconds as he watched in the Fords rear view mirror from two blocks down the road as the blue Chevette completed a one eighty degree U turn and began to follow in the same direction some distance behind the old pick up.
Clyde spent the next half an hour driving around the streets of the city before pulling into a MacDonald’s drive thru to grab a quick meal. He was hoping the Chevette would come close enough for him to make note of the license number but the car would remain too far away to read the numbers on the plates. Sitting in the front of the restaurant parking lot eating the Big Mac and fries Clyde could see the Chevette come to a rest in the back of a strip plaza parking directly lot across the street. From the MacDonald’s parking lot Clyde drove to the opposite side of the city and parked the truck in the parking lot of a large multi-screen theatre complex.
Leaving the truck Clyde walked to the front entrance of the theatre and entered. Viewing the parking lot from inside the dark front entrance of the theatre, Clyde watched as the blue Chevette began to drive in a slow circle across the back lane of the theatres parking lot. Searching for the longest screen time Clyde discovered a film with an over two hundred minute run time.
Clyde was sure Bruck would be thinking the movie was some kind of rouse and would be driving him crazy as he waited in the car for Clyde to re-emerge not knowing if he would disappear out of one of the many external exit doors located around the large structure. Clyde made no attempt to exit the theatre before his full length feature had ended, upon the films completion Clyde walked straight out the same front doors in which he had entered almost three hours prior.
The parking lot was half as full as when he had arrived at the theatre, as Clyde quickly scanned the edges of the parking lot while walking across to the Ford, Clyde was certain that the silhouette of the Chevette sat just outside the cone of light from one of the parking lots distant light standards.
Wanting to have a little more fun with the tailing cop Clyde decided to drive the old truck outside the borders of the city and into the dense forests and hills to the north. There would be no plans for Clyde’s surveillance during the week leading up to Mrs. Worthington’s murder. Clyde knew exactly where she would be on the following Sunday evening so he had all the time in the world for the drunkard cop on this particular week. The drive would take over and hour, Clyde watched in his rear view mirror as in the distance behind him he could see the familiar headlight and amber marker lights of the Chevette make the identical turns while trying to stay as far back as possible and still maintaining visual contact with Clyde’s truck.
Clyde easily could have ran a couple of yellow intersection lights on his way out of the city in order to lose the trailing car but he had no such intention, keeping Bruck in mystery of what exactly he was up to prove to be far more entertaining. Driving out into the complete darkness outside of the city’s boundaries on a small winding road Clyde stopped to the side of the road following a sharp corner, parking the truck on the gravel shoulder Clyde stepped out to the front of the truck and started to take a piss . Within a couple of minutes the blue Chevette rounded the blind corner, with no other option the car drove by the old Ford with Clyde standing in the light of the trucks head lights taking a piss. The little blue Chevette continued on down the country road and disappeared behind the trees of the next corner in the road.
Climbing back into the old Ford, Clyde swung the truck around and drove back down the road in the same direction in which he had come. The drive back to the townhouse was sans the Chevette, or if he had followed Clyde back he had not noticed him. Later that same evening Clyde would again leave through the back of the townhouse so not to be noticed walking down a few blocks before circling back down the street in search of the Chevette.
He discovered Bruck’s car parked a similar distance from the townhouse but in the opposite direction from earlier in the evening, similarly to earlier Clyde made no attempt to approach the car so certain he was that it had to be Bruck. The following morning when Clyde made his way down the street on his way to school the Chevette was nowhere to be seen, Bruck had left in time for the start of his regular shift back in Largo. Perhaps it’s time to reverse the roles thought Clyde as he drove to school that morning. He decided that only the morning classes would be attended that day, after lunch he would drive back up to Largo to perform some of his own surveillance.
Reading the file now I could remember back to when Clyde had shown up back in town at the Funeral Home that Wednesday afternoon unexpectedly. I still remember him telling Fred
and I he had returned because he had been dying to get out on the dirt bike, it had been too long since he had ridden Clyde would inform us. Apart from our sport bikes Clyde and I had brought our dirt bikes along with us when we moved to Largo and the Funeral Home.
Both of the bikes would see very little use since our move, both of us not being able to find the time to ride them more than an hour here or there. Both our bikes were Enduro style off road bikes which meant they had a simple lighting system which allowed them to be licensed and used on the roads as well as the trails. After consuming a quick meal Clyde packed a few items into a back pack and headed out on the bike, I had offered to ride with him if he could wait until after five. I had been waiting for a family to arrive to arrange for a service to take place on Saturday.” I’m going for a solo ride today and I want to get going’ was Clyde’s response, there was certainly no mention to me at that time that he was going to stake out a local cop.
Clyde wanted to ensure he left enough time to get the bike down close to Bruck’s house and have it concealed in the bush before he returned home from his shift. Bruck lived in a tiny little winterized cottage on the edge of town; the land surrounding the cottage was covered in scrubby brush, cedar trees and stone allowing for plenty of locations to hide the motorbike. Clyde settled on a location further down the road heading out of town, he was sure if Bruck was to head out at night it would be to go into town meaning Clyde could slide in behind him easily. Having the motorbike and him in place by three thirty that afternoon, Clyde would need to wait until shortly after five for Bruck to pull into the short laneway with the blue Chevette.